Forgotten & Remembered - The Duke's Late Wife by Bree Wolf
Squaring her shoulders, Rosabel turned her gaze back to the entrance and came face to face with her husband’s cold eyes, now ablaze with barely contained anger.
***
Seeing her standing just outside the doorway, Graham thought he had strayed into a dream. Her dark hair whipped about by a cold breeze, her cheeks flushed a rosy red, Rosabel’s eyes shone like two dark pools. Instantly, Graham noted that there was something different about her. However, he didn’t know what, and that thought unsettled him deeply.
Feeding off his anger, lest he forget his position in this affair, he stormed toward her, feeling his own face contorted in a scowl that rasped his voice. “What in the devil’s name are you doing here? I gave you specific instructions with regard to…this.” Blocking her path, he stared her down.
For a second Rosabel’s shoulders seemed to tremble, but then she brushed it off, and, lifting her eyes to his, said, “My Lord, I suggest we take this into your study.” And with that she moved past him and headed down the corridor he had come.
For a moment Graham was too stunned to move. Yes, there was something different about her; only now he began to suspect what it was. Confidence. All of a sudden, the woman radiated confidence. Sure, here and there, there seemed to be a slight hesitation in her manner, but that only underlined the change her personality had undergone since he had last seen her a mere fortnight ago.
Not having another option, Graham begrudgingly followed her to his study. He stepped inside, closing the door with a loud bang. Rosabel, however, did not flinch. She merely lifted her eyes, and although she barely moved, he couldn’t help but feel that she was shaking her head at him. Graham knew his behaviour was childish, and yet, he couldn’t help it.
Swallowing all uncertainty on his part, he glowered at her. “We have privacy here, now speak! What is the meaning of this?”
Again Rosabel seemed to grow taller as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, meeting his eyes without flinching. “This is about Georgiana.”
Exhausted and unwilling to enter into the same discussion he had considered closed, Graham walked around his desk and began to shuffle through some papers. “As I told you before, there is nothing to discuss. Nothing changes. You and my daughter will remain at Westmore while I conduct my business from Camden Hall. This arrangement benefits all.”
This time Rosabel did shake her head. “My Lord, it does not, and I believe you know that.” Had she just called him a liar? “I brought Georgiana here because I believe that a daughter belongs with−”
“Here?” Graham croaked, hearing his blood rush in his ears. “You brought her here? Georgiana is in this house?”
Rosabel nodded. “Yes. Although at the moment she is in the stables.”
Feeling his knees soften and turn into pudding, Graham sank into his desk chair. He took a deep breath and for a second closed his eyes. He could only guess what his wife would take from this behaviour but right then and there he felt drained and unable to maintain his carefully constructed mask.
***
Taking a seat across from her husband, Rosabel once more buried her trembling hands in the folds of her dress. How handy! As she glanced across the desk at her husband’s slumped figure, his broad shoulders sunken in, Rosabel experienced a hint of pity. Why did he reject his daughter in such a manner? Clearly he cared for her. Upon hearing about her presence at Camden Hall, his face had shown not only shock but also a longing pain had come to his eyes that Rosabel only knew too well. In that moment, whether she had wanted it or not, her heart had gone out to him. If only he wouldn’t seek to destroy this fragile connection at the next opportunity, they could all live together peacefully. It could all be so simple.
After a short eternity, her husband took a deep breath, and his gaze returned from whatever inward contemplation it had been occupied with, fixing her with yet another icy stare. In that moment, their fragile connection shattered like a vase hitting the hardboard floor.
Putting on her own mask, her armour for battle, Rosabel pressed her lips together in a thin line and narrowed her eyes as she looked at him with the same disdain she had so often seen in Mrs. Rigsby’s gaze upon herself. Indeed, the governess had been an excellent teacher!
“As it is late, you may stay here until the morrow,” her husband said, glancing out the window at the setting sun, “However, tomorrow morning the two of you will return to Westmore. Am I understood?”
His voice frightened her. Nothing in its harsh, clipped tone resonated with emotion. Could he really turn off what he felt for his daughter at a whim? Had she not just moments before witnessed a near-meltdown at the thought of his daughter under the same roof as himself? What had happened?
Her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, balling into fists, in order to keep a tight grasp on her nerves. Desperate to just run from her husband’s study, Rosabel almost averted her eyes when the weight of his stare became too much. Georgiana, a tiny voice whispered, and instead of backing down, Rosabel stood her ground. “No, I am afraid not,” she answered his question in a voice that rang clear and unflinching, much to her own surprise. “We have come here to stay. For how long that remains unclear at the moment.” Watching the scowl on his face deepen, Rosabel rushed on. “I did not come to ask your permission.” Now her eyes drilled into his. “I am here,” with a sweep of her arm she indicated her husband’s study, “to inform you of the situation. I’d appreciate your cooperation, but I can see that, at least at the moment, this is a futile wish.” As she rose from her chair, he followed. “Good night, my lord.”
Fighting to control her feet, lest they take over and run from the room, Rosabel maintained her composure. However, when she reached out to open the door, hands grabbed her from behind and spun her around.
A startled cry escaped her lips as she found her arms trapped in iron grips, back pressed against the door. Her husband’s looming figure stood before her, barely an inch separated their chests, and she could feel the touch of his breath on her cheeks. Looking down at her, his eyes held her immobile, the scowl on his face impenetrable. “How dare you speak to me like that?” he hissed, pressing into her. “I am your husband!”
Feeling herself tremble and tears accumulating in the corners of her eyes, Rosabel swallowed hard. Eyes not wavering from his, she squared her shoulders, feeling the restraint of his hands on her arms, and raised her chin. As she lifted her head and looked up into his face, her lips almost touched his. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, thrown off by the proximity of their bodies. However, before his scowl could intensify again, Rosabel said, “And I am your wife.”
His eyes no longer drilled into her being, but instead roamed her face as though trying to unearth her secrets. For a second they lingered on her lips, and Rosabel felt herself tremble. Only this time it wasn’t from fear.
“Yes, you are my wife,” he whispered, and Rosabel could all but feel his words fall from his lips onto her own. She inhaled slowly, breathing in his scent. Again his body seemed to be moving closer, pressing into her, and the air between them was filled with a promise not yet fulfilled. “As my wife, you are to obey. Do you not remember your vows?”
From whence it came, Rosabel didn’t know, but a sparkling smile suddenly curled up her lips, reaching even her eyes. She could see its effects on her husband’s face and bit her lower lip to keep it from growing even bigger. She did not wish to anger him further, but instead of a renewed anger, his eyes held something else. Something Rosabel had never seen there before. Something she couldn’t quite name. And once again his eyes travelled down to her lips, staying there as though mesmerized.
How long they stood like this, locked away from the world, Rosabel couldn’t say. However, the sun was nowhere to be seen, when a sudden knock on the door shattered the illusion they had retreated to.
As though startled awake, her husband released his grip on her, clearing his throat. He stepped back, and his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. Rosabel too took a step bac
Hanson, her husband’s butler, held a small silver platter with a single envelop on. “This was just delivered, Your Grace. It was said to be urgent.”
With the seal hidden on the other side of the envelop, Rosabel didn’t know who it was from. However, when her husband picked it up and turned it over, there was a slight widening to his eyes as he beheld the identity of the sender. “Thank you, Hanson, that’ll be all.”
When the door closed behind the butler, her husband turned to her, although his eyes told her that she did not possess his undivided attention any longer. “We will discuss your presence here later. At the moment, I have important business to attend to.” And with that he returned to his desk.
Whispering a short goodbye, Rosabel left the room, looking for Georgiana. The sun had gone down a while ago and taken with it the little bit of warmth it offered in these cold days of early spring. Rosabel suspected that she and Bridget had long since returned from the stables.
As her footsteps echoed on the marble floors, Rosabel couldn’t help but smile. She may not have won the war, but from this first battle, she had emerged the victor. For now, at least, they were staying.
Chapter Twenty-Three − Ellie’s Advice
Eyes focused on the words before him on the sheet of paper, Graham barely knew what he read. His mind was still occupied with the sudden and completely unwelcome change in his wife’s personality. An anguished moan escaped his lips, and for a second, he closed his eyes, resting his head on his arms.
Instantly, an image of Leonora flashed into his mind.
Startled, Graham jerked up, back rigid, breath panting. Rubbing his hands over his temples and running them over his eyes and down his face, he tried to chase away the memories, but they wouldn’t yield. Again and again he saw her smile, that beautiful, tantalizing smile that had nearly driven him mad since the first day he had laid eyes on her, but especially during the years of their marriage. Her soft, blue eyes looked at him, always so tender, so forgiving, making guilt surge to the surface like never before.
He was betraying her memory, and she would have hated him for it. At least he hoped she would have.
Again her face stole into his mind. But this time her golden curls and ocean-blue eyes slowly changed and became darker. Her hair shone like the night sky, pitch-black and yet, sparkling while her eyes turned into soft doe eyes, darkened by memories. At first he frowned, not recognizing his wife, but then understanding dawned, and he found himself thinking, not of Leonora, but Rosabel instead.
Again guilt washed over him, and yet, he could not force the image from his mind. Too much did it intrigue him. What had happened to alter her personality to such a degree? She had been so timid and yielding, completely obedient. There had been no doubt in his mind that he would be able to bend her to his will. And what now? Had she not fought her way back into his life? But why? For Georgiana she had said.
Once more the image changed, and he saw Leonora’s face snarling at the Duke of Somerset. At a picnic his precious son had pushed Georgiana for correcting his speech, and since the duke had seen no reason to lecture his son, Leonora had charged them both, more the father than the son. By the end of the day, the duke, who was a bear of a man, had feebly asked the Lady Georgiana to apologize for his son’s behaviour as well as reprimanded the future duke himself. Graham had never been more proud of his wife. She had stood like a lioness to defend her cub. Just like Rosabel had done today.
What had happened? Had it really been Georgiana who had brought about this change? If so, Graham knew he would not have a moment of peace from his wife in the future. Not as long as he didn’t give in to her demands and spend time with his daughter. If he could only make her understand why that was impossible.
Turning back to his letter, Graham pushed all thoughts of his wives away, determined to ride out the storm, no matter what it would cost him.
***
The next morning, Rosabel felt drained. After the two-day journey back to Camden Hall followed by an intense conversation with her husband, she had gone in search of Georgiana, finding her in the nursery with Bridget, unpacking their trunks. Despite the late hour, the girl had been exhilarated and wouldn’t stop talking until Rosabel knew all about the horses in her father’s stable. Then, as expected, Georgiana had asked when she could see her father.
Rosabel had taken her by the hand, and they had sat down on a chaise. Hoping she had found the right words, Rosabel had explained to Georgiana that her father was busy with business, would be for the next few weeks, and that she probably wouldn’t see him as often as she would like. However, her father was delighted that she had come to see him.
Rosabel felt a small stab of guilt at her lie, but seeing Georgiana’s face light up, she couldn’t be too unforgiving with herself. Praying that in time her husband would reconnect with his daughter, she had lent a hand straightening out the nursery and then put Georgiana to bed. Tucking her in, Rosabel had sat with her for a little while, brushing the golden curls from her forehead.
Before drifting off to sleep, Georgiana had looked at her for a moment, eyes intent as though aged beyond her years. Then she had snuggled into the covers and whispered, “I am so happy you’re here.” She had breathed in and out, her chest rising and falling. “Mother.”
Hearing that word had startled Rosabel, and for a second she wasn’t sure if Georgiana had already fallen asleep and was seeing her mother in her dreams, or if she had really just now for the first time referred to her as her mother.
But then Rosabel felt a soft squeeze of Georgiana’s hand, still resting in hers, and knew how deep the girl’s feelings were. With tears in her eyes, Rosabel sat at her bed for hours just watching her sleep, touched beyond words.
When Rosabel had finally surrendered to the heaviness of her eyelids and sought her own bed, the night had not been young anymore. As soon as her head touched the pillow though, she had been lost to the world.
However, these few hours of sleep were not enough to sustain her and return the energy the previous days had cost her. But the sun was up, and Rosabel could hear Georgiana’s excited giggle from down the hall. Suppressing a yawn, she got out of bed, wondering what this day would bring.
Remembering that her husband generally ate breakfast at the break of dawn, Rosabel was not surprised to not see him in the breakfast parlour. While Georgiana seemed a bit disappointed, Rosabel assured her that they would go see him as soon as possible.
After running through various scenarios in her head, Rosabel decided on a direct approach. There was no use in delaying the meeting between father and daughter. However, Rosabel intended to make it as short as possible, so as to give her husband a little time to get used to the thought of his daughter being under the same roof as him.
While contemplating her options, Rosabel had realized something else. Something she hadn’t even thought about in coming back to Camden Hall. Not only had she returned Georgiana to her father’s side, but she had also returned herself to the place she had called home for the past ten years.
Giddy as she hadn’t felt in a long time, Rosabel decided to pay Ellie a visit, and she would take Georgiana. More than anything, Rosabel wanted to introduce her daughter to her dearest friend and cousin, but in addition she thought it would ease everybody’s mind to keep Georgiana happily occupied. And her little cousins would be just the ones to accomplish the task.
After breakfast Rosabel led Georgiana down the corridor to her husband’s study and knocked on the door. Desperately hoping he had not once again chosen the coward’s way out and disappeared in the dark of night, she breathed a sigh of relief when she heard his voice bid them to enter.
However, before Rosabel could say anything, Georgiana pushed past her and ran into the room. Following on her daughter’s heel, Rosabel saw her husband’s face when Georgiana flung herself into his arms. What she saw there gave her hope.
Rosabel felt like an intruder, and yet, she found a smile on her own face at the beautiful scene before her eyes. Yes, she had done the right thing in coming here!
Sitting back, Georgiana looked at him, chatting without catching a breath. All the while her husband’s eyes moved over his daughter’s face, his hand tucking a golden strand behind her ear, cupping her cheek and brushing over her forehead as though trying to familiarize himself with her again. He seemed oblivious to Rosabel’s presence, all attention focused on his daughter.
Time passed, and in the end it was Rosabel who ushered Georgiana from the room, seeing the drained look on her husband’s face. For whatever reason, keeping his daughter at a distance had taken its toll. He seemed exhausted after dealing with the emotions he so clearly sought to ignore. Rosabel couldn’t help but wonder why? Why did he not count his blessings to have a daughter like Georgiana?
Shaking her head, Rosabel left the room, guiding the chatty girl past the entrance hall and to the carriage.
***
Hugging her cousin tightly, Rosabel breathed in the familiar scent of lavender and mint. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, desperately trying to keep a grip on her emotions and keep at bay the stream of tears threatening to spill forth. “I’ve felt so alone without you!”
“Me too,” Ellie agreed, her own eyes glistening with tears as well. “But now you’re back! How did that happen? I thought going to Westmore was to be of a permanent nature?”